


(I Was) A King under Your Control

by craving_for_ziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craving_for_ziam/pseuds/craving_for_ziam
Summary: Liam Payne is a busy university student. He meets an alluring stranger one night while destressing on the dancefloor at a club. That stranger may or may not be one Zayn Malik.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	(I Was) A King under Your Control

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday today and in the wee morning hours I thought to myself, "how 'bout you post that 1D fanfic you'd been brewing since 2015 and finally finished last summer?" - and here we are. Consider this my swan song, for obvious reasons; I'm not actively in the fandom anymore, I do follow the boys' individual careers though.  
> Despite all that's gone down with the website in late 2018, I do still hang around on [tumblr](https://technically-you-killed-him.tumblr.com/).
> 
> This may or may not have been written mostly with Miguel's ["Simple Things"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vpxbYH22DNY) playing in the background. 10/10 would recommend.
> 
> The title is taken from ["King"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_uoH6hJilc), a Years & Years song, because why not? I love that song.

_I caught you watching me under the light  
Can I realign?  
They say it’s easy to leave you behind  
I don’t wanna try_

“King” – Years & Years

He sees him watching his every move, and sways his hips with more vigour, less hesitation. Knowing someone is watching gives him courage, and he performs, as if on stage. He lets the beat of the song wash over him, hands sliding over every curve of his body. The stranger’s eyes light up with fiery passion. His fingers are twitching as if trying to grab onto a non-existent body. What a gorgeous man, he thinks, when he fixes his gaze on the other’s face and slowly gyrates his hips into the thin air surrounding him. He’s hard, has been ever since he caught the handsome man staring at him.

Everyone’s ceased dancing to watch him, he notices, smirking in satisfaction; he certainly won’t be going home alone tonight. But he doesn’t want them. He wants the mysterious man with gleaming eyes. He wonders what colour they are. Blue, like the sea at the beach in Barmouth where he used to visit with his family? Green? Or are they like dark chocolate? He rather likes chocolate.

He turns back to where he’d seen the man, only to find him gone.

He tries not to be disappointed, but he yearns to take a closer look at the man’s sculpted jawline and sharp cheekbones. Wishes to hear his voice; it must be as attractive as the rest of him. He wants the man speaking dirty whispers against his skin. In return, he hopes to elicit all kinds of unrestrained sounds from that very distracting mouth, with full lips hiding two rows of pearly whites, guarding a very vivacious tongue, he imagines.

Next thing he knows is the feel of a solid chest plastered to his back, hands snaking around his waist. A strong scent of smoke and a musky fragrance clouds over his senses; he likes it. He notices the man is a tad smaller than him. He has a lovely pair of hands: firm, yet delicate, with long fingers pressing into his sides, keeping him in place. Tattoos of varying size litter his right arm; he has the whole sleeve done. On top of his left wrist is some sort of a flower design – he can’t see well enough under the dim lights of the club.

The man's hips thrust forward, a hard outline of arousal lined up with his backside. He lets out a slow moan and follows with an answering push back. The other man’s palms journey down his front at a languid pace and pause at the seam of his jeans. Hot breath ghosts over his neck, behind his left ear, right where he’s most sensitive. He sighs in content and lets his head rest on the stranger’s shoulder. He closes his eyes and surrenders to the loud thumping of the music. He starts moving again, the man still glued to his back. Warm hands push under his shirt and glide over the hard planes of his abdomen. A wet tongue licks over his soft spot, followed by grazing teeth nipping at his birthmark. He suppresses a moan before it can escape his mouth; he wants the man to work for it. The tongue is back, soothing the place. Lifting his arms behind his head, he grabs the back of the man’s neck. He can feel the soft strands between his fingers and moves one hand higher to clutch at his hair. The man lets out a throaty moan. Palms slide up to his nipples, pinching them between thumbs and forefingers, and shock runs through him like an electric surge. He opens his eyes and surprises himself with a whimper high in his throat.

“That’s what I thought. Don’t swallow them down, let me hear you,” the stranger speaks, with a strong Yorkshire accent. Must be from Leeds or Bradford, he reckons. His voice is deep, raspy, and insanely attractive. He wonders what it sounds like after he’s taken a cock down his throat. Completely wrecked and husky? Might be a good guess.

It is with sudden focus he realises that there isn’t another soul on the dance floor; the place is extremely quiet for a night club. No one is chatting, or rather shouting over the sound of music. He looks around and sees dozens of eyes directed at them. They’ve all left for the bar. Some are stealing hungry glances in their direction, some downright staring. He decides to put on a show and deliberately rubs his arse against the stranger’s stiff cock. The man releases a surprised groan and grips his hips to keep him still. He tries again, and this time, the man growls in his ear, “Stop.” If he wasn’t already rock hard, that demanding, sexy voice would get him there.

“Can we move to a more private place then?” he finally speaks. He’s amazed at how shaky he sounds already, his arousal palpable even through the heavy sound of music.

“Yes, that would be welcome. I don’t share.” He can feel the stranger’s grip on him tighten. For some reason, it gets him even hotter, though he feels like he should be outraged by the man’s words.

“I’m not a property or an object you can share.” He manages to sound somewhat resolute.

After what feels like hours, the stranger finally responds. The man’s arms wrap around his torso, a nose at his ear and a breath of “I know. You are my _prey_.”

At that, shivers run down his spine. He feels his knees weaken, so he grabs the man’s arms for purchase; he manages to stay upright. “Let’s go, then,” he almost squeaks. He wonders when exactly he lost his wits. It might have something to do with the other man, he supposes.

“Tell me your name first,” the stranger demands and releases him from the tight grip. He contemplates denying him but decides against it.

“Liam,” he murmurs and turns around. The other man’s eyes are still sparkling, the colour unidentifiable in the dark.

“Liam,” the stranger purrs. It sounds erotic and sensual. “I’m _delighted_ to meet you. The name you’ll be screaming tonight is Zayn.” Oh, _please_ , he scoffs, can you get any cheesier? He decides to ignore the remark. Zayn is a beautiful name, though. Fitting.

“Zayn,” he repeats. It has a nice ring to it, and it rolls off his tongue smoothly.

“Now that we’re over with formalities, I suggest we move on. Otherwise I’ll, unfortunately, have to fuck you right here,” _Zayn_ says smugly.

“Please,” he sneers in distaste and crosses his arms. In a distant corner of his brain that hasn’t yet fallen under the other man’s spell, he reckons his mate Louis would compare him to an offended kitten. He shakes himself out of it and thinks about the proposal; he wouldn’t actually oppose to it. Much. Zayn lets out a loud, genuine laugh. It sounds charming.

“After you,” he continues and waits for the other man to start moving. What he doesn’t expect is for Zayn to clasp their hands together. He leads them away from the dance floor, and away from the bar. They go down the dimly lit hall, where Zayn stops abruptly. Liam crashes into his back but doesn’t have time to react. Zayn is right there, kissing him with quick, passionate licks into his mouth. He is into it the second their lips touch and responds, stroking Zayn’s tongue with his own. Zayn moans throatily and grinds him into the wall. He feels on the verge of melting.

“Wanted to do this ever since I laid my eyes upon you back there,” Zayn whispers into his lips. “You taste even better than I expected.”

They hear someone approaching their spot and break apart, although Zayn doesn’t appear to be fond of the idea. The man tastes exquisite. If he were a beverage, he would be a pricey bottle of aged wine. He licks his lips and looks at Zayn. His eyes are intense, though still impossible to discern. Zayn grabs hold of his hand again and moves further down the hall. He opens some door on the left and goes into the room. It’s the club’s loo.

“Are you serious? I’m not one of those rent boys who put out wherever,” he snorts, feeling slightly offended. (If he finds himself fucked against the wall in that same toilet a few weeks later, that’s no one’s business). “Let’s go to my place, it’s not far from here,” he offers.

“A good vantage point, I presume?” Zayn smirks.

“Well, yes. It’s convenient as it’s close to all the places I visit on a regular basis. You know, uni and stuff. The local library. And it’s a nice flat for such a low rent,” he retorts defensively.

“I understand, _Liam_.” He likes the way Zayn drags out the syllables. It sounds syrupy, like honey.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Zayn commands. Bossy little thing, he is, even shorter than it first seemed. Although Liam, too, is getting impatient. He can’t wait to get out of this dark hole; he wants to take a good look at the beautiful man in front of him.

The next fifteen minutes pass in a blur; the flat isn’t more than a few minutes away, but they spend much of the walk stumbling over each other and leaning on every wall possible, snogging somewhat discreetly. Every time they break apart, Liam feels like he can’t breathe, he needs to kiss Zayn, to grind into his hips, to touch. Zayn has a very nice back, from what he can feel, and broad shoulders as well. Lots of room for scratching and biting, then.

When they reach the door, he drops the keys in his eagerness. _Of course_. He leans down to pick them up, when he feels hands on his hips, and Zayn’s hard cock pressing into his arse cheeks. He freezes like a bloody virgin. What if Maggie, his noisiest neighbour is watching? Or even worse, Gary, the resident neighbourhood gossiper? He shudders at the thought. He’s always tried to maintain his boy-next-door image – not everyone approves of anything other than heterosexuality around here.

“Hmm, that’s a view I like to see - with fewer clothes on though,” that silky voice pulls him back to the present. He can almost hear the grin in Zayn’s voice. The bastard.

“If you’re done assaulting poor, unsuspecting lads who are trying to enter their flat, I’d very much like to open the bloody door,” he feigns annoyance. Zayn lets go of him, but not before he pats him on the bum.

“Hurry up, then. I have a perky little arse to attend to.” God, what has he got himself into this time? Though for such a cheeky person, Zayn is extremely likeable. It has everything to do with his appearance, Liam tells himself. Nothing else.

After a few more piss-poor attempts under Zayn’s hungry gaze, each one more embarrassing, he finally opens the door and they stagger through the entrance. Zayn locks the door and slowly turns around. It’s dark in the room, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside the window, and yet he finds him immediately. Liam backs away, walking towards his tiny bedroom. Zayn stalks after him, leaving his jacket in the foyer. He is already on the third button of his button-up, deft fingers flying down the front of the piece of clothing. There are more tattoos decorating his sternum and collarbones.

Liam stands at the end of his bed, unsure of what to do next. He turns the lamp on hastily, in a poor attempt to busy himself. This isn’t his first one-night stand, and yet he feels like he stumbled into this new and uncontrollable situation. It’s probably the lack of liquid courage in his blood that makes him feel like a blushing maiden. He should have downed a pint or two when he had the chance.

If Zayn notices any hesitation, he doesn’t mention it, but his bold smirk softens into a smile, and his pace slows down. He leaves his shirt open and steps closer to Liam, softly caressing his cheek. Liam can’t describe the feeling that flickers through his body, but it makes him weak in the knees, and he falls backwards onto the bed. He feels as if what began as a simple no-strings-attached fuck already became so much more than that; he is pretty sure Zayn feels it too, if the way he’s gazing into Liam’s eyes is any indication. He is glad that the smug bravado from earlier was only a front.

Liam reaches up to Zayn’s jeans and hooks his fingers into the belt loops. He pulls lightly, and Zayn follows obediently, straddling Liam’s legs and grinding down on his cock. Their lips meet in a passionate kiss, and Liam can’t wait anymore. They’ve been hard for what feels like forever, and he’s certain he could lose his sanity if nothing happened in the next few minutes. He starts pulling his shirt off while Zayn’s working on his jeans. They break apart so that they can get rid of the rest of their clothes. Liam is pretty sure a sock flew onto his wardrobe; he hopes he’ll remember that in the morning.

“I thought you should know that I got tested two weeks ago and that I’m clean,” Liam says as he climbs further up the bed. Zayn immediately latches onto his neck, and murmurs, “So am I,” right under Liam’s jawline. It tickles. “Though we should still use a condom.”

“We should,” Liam agrees. “Less messy. Though I like messy sometimes.” He catches himself before he can venture into an embarrassing ramble. Zayn noses to the side of his jaw. Then he goes at it like a starving man, licking and sucking at Liam’s pulse point, rendering him powerless. He slowly goes down and lets out quiet moans and tiny whimpers as Zayn licks over every inch of the delicate line of his neck, paying special attention to his birthmark. Liam’s hands are twitching uselessly by his sides. He pulls the man up and kisses him again, but Zayn has other plans. He leaves a trail of feather-light kisses down Liam’s neck and stops at his left nipple, pulling it into his mouth and suckling until it swells with blood; seconds later, his right nipple receives the same treatment. He then follows that by nipping at Liam’s chest, down his stomach, avoiding his cock altogether and stopping at his thighs. Liam’s moans get louder the lower the attention gets. Zayn spreads his legs open and leaves small bites on his inner thighs. Liam is harder than he’s ever been, his cock straining against his abdomen and twitching at a particularly strong pinch.

“Zayn, please,” he whines and pushes the man towards his neglected cock. Zayn obliges, albeit teasingly. He ghosts his breath over the ridge of Liam’s cock and a bead of pre-come gathers at the tip. Liam feels like he’s dying; he is ready to blow, and Zayn hasn’t even touched him yet where he wants it the most. It is at that precise moment that Zayn decides it is time to swallow him down, and Liam all but loses it, moaning loudly and bucking into the hot mouth. He has to think about that time his secondary school teacher publicly acknowledged his involuntary hard-on during a Geography class to cool down a bit.

It seems like the torture has begun anew as Zayn alternates between slowly sucking on the head and nursing it enthusiastically. He pays special attention to the slit as he kitten-licks at it.

“ _Fuuuck_ , Zayn, don’t-,” Liam groans and tries to pull the man off. He refuses to come like a teenager. Zayn, however, doesn’t budge. But as Liam’s moans get more desperate, he sighs heavily, nuzzles his cock goodbye and straightens up.

“You are quite an enthusiast when it comes to sucking cock, aren’t you?” Liam wheezes, covering his eyes as he tries to gather himself. He doesn’t recall any of his previous partners or drunken one-night stands to be anywhere near as excited about his thicker-than-most-but-quite-average cock as Zayn is. It’s exhilarating.

“It’s not my fault you have such a pretty cock. It deserves all the attention it can get, don’t you think?” Zayn answers coyly as he traces the side of it with a fingernail. Liam lies there, his cock twitching at the thought of what else Zayn’s talented mouth is capable of.

“Where do you want me then?” Zayn asks after a few beats of silence, now tracing the tender skin on Liam’s thighs.

“I want you on your back, so I can ride you,” Liam says as he stares at Zayn’s cock. It’s long and lean, like the man. He can’t wait to feel it inside, and he can’t wait to get a taste. He kneels over Zayn to get the lube and condoms that he keeps in his bedside cabinet.

He uncaps the bottle and unceremoniously pushes two lubed up fingers knuckle-deep into his already wet hole. Never go to a club without prep first is a rule he lives by, and it's thus far proven to be effective. The feeling of his arse being stretched so much so fast is a welcome relief on his already overworked cock. He hears a sharp inhale to his side, where Zayn is watching, holding himself in hand. Liam grinds down onto his fingers, making sure to graze his prostate every few movements. He thinks Zayn will appreciate it, so he moans like there’s a camera pointed at his face and swivels his hips as if he were the star of a professional setup. “So, are you gonna help me out or do you want to just sit there and watch?” he asks Zayn and adds a third finger. The other man seems to have shaken himself out of a trance, and he crawls closer to where Liam is pushing down on his fingers. He rolls on the condom and slathers himself with lube.

Leaning back on the headboard, Zayn spreads his legs and pats his thighs. “You are cordially invited to enjoy the precious gift that is this handsome bod,” he says, and it makes Liam laugh as he gets himself into position. He can’t tell whether Zayn is serious or joking. He isn’t wrong though; Liam’s gonna have a blast riding that, and he’s having a hard time hiding just how much he’s gagging for it.

As he’s sliding down Zayn’s cock, Liam realises he forgot how much he liked that slow luxurious stretch of having a throbbing cock up his arse, the one that scratches the itch no toy or fingers ever could. He hears a gasp and groans as his hole twitches around the intrusion. This isn’t the biggest cock he’s taken, and yet it feels like that, and then some. It’s been a few months since he last had sex, and even longer since he was on the receiving end.

“Ngghh, fuck, Liam,” Zayn swears as he pulls almost all the way out and then thrusts back in slowly.

Liam then proceeds to immobilize his wandering hands and take his pleasure. He sets a slow pace at first, rolling his hips in rhythm with his heartbeat, then gradually rocking faster. Zayn is looking at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen. He wraps his arms around Zayn's shoulders, returning the favour from earlier by nuzzling at his neck, and judging by the harsh intake of breath, it gets Zayn going too.

Every now and then, on the slide back down that's enunciated by Zayn's thrust up, the cock in him drags across his prostate just right and he's hit by a wave of immense pleasure. It elicits long moans from him that get louder, and higher in pitch, the longer they fuck. Liam can't keep still, he gyrates and gyrates, grinding down and working his hips, grateful for the workout routine he’s maintained since before university. His cock is leaking a steady amount of precome between their stomachs.

He realises he’s had his fill of the intoxicating taste of the man's neck and not enough of his lips. This kiss is all teeth and bite, any tenderness flown out of the window. When their breathing becomes erratic, and it’s obvious Liam can’t keep the rhythm for much longer, Zayn seizes him by the hips and takes control, pulling him close, the thrusts focused, sharp, short, and deep. Liam breaks the kiss and then he’s wailing at the sensation. There is something empowering about being at someone’s mercy, getting nailed and having to just take it, without the ability to put an end to it. He loves it. Zayn’s grip on his hips tightens, and he finds himself laid on the bed and getting drilled into it. He holds onto Zayn’s back, nails digging in, legs locked together.

“You love being taken as much as you love taking, don’t you, my sweet boy?” Zayn breathes sharply into his ear, hot air from the exhalation giving him goosebumps. That’s it, he goes silent as his body goes taut, and he paints their bellies in white, his hole spasming and squeezing around Zayn’s cock. Not five thrusts later, and he’s coming too, groaning and burying his face into Liam’s neck, collapsing next to him. Everything is silent for a while, sans their panting.

“Sweet boy?” Liam asks when his brain comes back online. “What are you, fifty?” Sure, you could say he has a thing for older men, an affliction in which he indulges every now and then, but he didn’t think he’d be getting off on it this time, not when Zayn looks so young.

“Not yet, although I believe I am quite a bit older than you. It’s been almost twelve years since I got my master’s degree. But I’m under impression that this doesn’t bother you.” Zayn turns to look at Liam.

“Nah, you’re right, it doesn’t.” Liam grins at him.

“Good. You can be my boy toy and I’ll be your daddy,” Zayn says seriously, but after a beat, he laughs, and so does Liam.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated (feeling very grateful every time I get a notification ^^). Thank you for stopping by and reading this very outdated piece of writing. Have a day as nice as I had and will no doubt continue to have (very nice, it's my birthday).


End file.
